


The Molten Throne

by IanBrandonAnderson82



Series: The Molten Throne [1]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, Politics, Post-Canon, Resurrection, boatbaby
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-15
Updated: 2020-06-23
Packaged: 2020-09-01 04:28:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 14
Words: 17,857
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20252179
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IanBrandonAnderson82/pseuds/IanBrandonAnderson82
Summary: Fifteen years after the crowning of Brandon I Stark, Westeros is still recovering from the Great War. The Hand of the King is keeping the Six Kingdoms in check while the North is once again a stable, sovereign nation. However, new threats have arisen, with the Stepstones uniting under a pirate king, several Free Cities at each other's throats and strange reports of a devastating plague beyond the Wall.





	1. A Time For Wolves

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Reign of the Molten Throne - OLD VERSION](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18910402) by [IanBrandonAnderson82](https://archiveofourown.org/users/IanBrandonAnderson82/pseuds/IanBrandonAnderson82). 

> This is sort of a "remaster" of my previous fic that I wrote months ago (don't read it, I am NOT proud of how it turned out, though I will use elements I was happy with in this one).

Six Kingdoms of the Molten Throne:

-King of the Six Kingdoms and Lord Protector of the Realm Brandon "The Broken" Stark, first of his name

-Hand of the King Tyrion Lannister, Lord of Casterly Rock and Warden of the West  
-Master of Ships Davos Seaworth  
-Master of Coin Bronn of the Blackwater, Lord of Highgarden and Warden of the South  
-Master of Laws Yohn Royce, Lord of Runestone  
-Master of Whisperers Arianne Martell, Princess of Dorne  
-Grand Maester Samwell, formerly Samwell Tarly, Lord of Horn Hill  
-Lord Commander of the Kingsguard Brienne of Tarth  
-Master-at-Arms Podrick Payne, member of the Kingsguard

-Lord of the Riverlands Edmure Tully  
-Lord of Storm's End Gendry Baratheon  
-Lord of the Vale and Warden of the East Robin Arryn  
-Lady of the Iron Islands Yara Greyjoy

The North:

-Queen of the North Sansa Stark, Lady of Winterfell  
-Prince Eddard Stark, heir of the North, eldest son of Queen Sansa, thirteen years old  
-Prince Robb Stark, second son of Queen Sansa, eleven years old  
-Prince Rickon Stark, third son of Queen Sansa, seven years old  
-Arya Stark, "the Light of Dawn", sister of Queen Sansa, location unknown

The Night's Watch:

-Lord Commander Jon "The Prince That Was Promised" Snow (Aegon Targaryen), lost beyond the wall  
-Acting Lord Commander Robett Glover, former Lord of Deepwood Motte  
-First Ranger Tormund Giantsbane  
-Commander of the Shadow Tower Denys "the Old" Mallister  
-Commander of Eastwatch Lyn Corbray

Other Survivors of the Great War:  
-Daenerys Targaryen, resurrected former Queen of the Seven Kingdoms, residing in Braavos  
-Visenya Targaryen, resurrected daughter of Jon Snow and Daenerys Targaryen, fourteen years old, twin sister of Aemon  
-Aemon Targaryen, resurrected son of Jon Snow and Daenerys Targaryen, fourteen years old, twin brother of Visenya  
-Drogon, unknown location

THE FALLEN:

Denyria, Afterlife of Fire:  
-R'hllor  
-Balerion  
-Meraxes  
-Vhagar  
-Aegon I Targaryen, "The Conqueror"  
-Rhaegar Targaryen, Prince of Dragonstone  
-Lyanna Stark  
-Azor Ahai  
-Nissa Nissa  
-Melisandre of Asshai  
-Beric Dondarrion  
-Thoros of Myr

Sunlight Keep, Afterlife of Service:  
-The Father  
-The Mother  
-The Maiden  
-The Crone  
-Eddard Stark  
-Catelyn Tully Stark  
-Robb Stark  
-Barristan Selmy  
-Arthur Dayne  
-Jon Arryn  
-Jorah Mormont  
-Jeor Mormont  
-Olenna Tyrell  
-Margaery Tyrell

-Brynden Tully

Seasky Halls and the Nightlands, Afterlife of Strife:  
-The Warrior  
-The Smith  
-The Stranger  
-Robert I Baratheon  
-Jaime Lannister  
-Khal Drogo  
-Brandon Stark  
-Daemon Blackfyre  
-Balon Greyjoy  
-Oberyn Martell  
-Princess Nymeria  
-Varys

-Mance Rayder

The Abyss:  
-The Great Other  
-The Black Goat of Qohor  
-Euron Greyjoy  
-Cersei Lannister  
-Roose Bolton  
-Ramsay Bolton  
-Walder Frey  
-Joffrey "Baratheon"  
-Petyr Baelish

=======================

"Planky Town has already been ravaged", Arianne stated angrily. "Unless the crown is willing to pay recompense to Dorne for quenching Lord Redwyne's Rebellion, I will cease our wine trade agreement with the capital, Lord Hand!"  
Davos saw that the Hand looked more worried than usual. Every now and then, he would glance at the king, who, although he attended the council meetings, spent most of the time elsewhere with his greensight. After a few seconds of awkward silence, Davos decided that he would intervene in the conversation.

"M'lady, as the Master of Ships, I think that the blame should fall onto me. I should have seen the threat from the Stepstones earlier". In truth, Davos had been one of the first to suggest sending the navy to the Stepstones in order to cull the pirate threat. After all, they were lead by his acquaintance Salladhor Saan. Davos knew of the Lyseni pirate's ambition; now that King Aurane Waters had been killed, Saan would surely try to take the Stepstones for himself. However, his plans had never come to fruition. Since the war, the council concluded that the last thing the people wanted was to reinforce the military. Before Davos could say anything else, though, Lord Bronn interrupted them.

"If you all hadn't insisted on building that shrine of yours, we could've had a whole fleet ready to take on the bastards". This encouraged Grand Maester Samwell to speak up. He had been the one to suggest building a shrine in place of the old throne room, that served to honour the heroes that had fallen during the Great War and the War of the Five Kings. A sizeable amount of coin had been spent on building the statues depicting notable heroes, such as Jorah Mormont, Beric Dondarrion and Sandor Clegane, and even a statue of Daenerys Targaryen. Although the citizens of King's Landing still remembered the scorching of the city, king Bran had reminded them that, without her sacrifices, they all would have been slain by the Night King.

"Excuse me, my Lord, but the people are very satisfied with the Shrine of Heroes. People from all over the world come there to pay their respects, and it has contributed to the recent growth of our treasury", Samwell Tarly reminded the Master of Coin. As the discussions spiraled out of control, Davos covered his face with his palm, hoping that either the Hand, or, better yet, the king himself would say something. That was how the council meetings usually went. Despite the constant bickering, they somehow managed to keep the kingdom alive. Some of the members of the Small Council came from nothing, Davos himself and Lord Bronn in particular. As it turned out, this group of former commoners, as well as a crippled king and a dwarf as Hand, somehow kept the state of affairs in motion. The realm was, however, in dire need of improvement. Since the Long Night, the realm had dealt with a drought, a particularly nasty pox as well as a rebellion from the Arbor. In the North, reports of a strange plague had come. What this could mean for the Six Kingdoms, Davos knew they would have to be cautious. Perhaps they would be in a better place now if the Dragon Queen had been allowed to live. Maybe Tyrion was wrong about her needing to be killed. At the time, though, it had been the most obvious solution. Thinking about ash-covered King's Landing still made Davos shudder.

After some more arguing, the king finally returned from wherever he had been.

"Your grace, what should we do about the pirate threat?" the Hand asked. Bran Stark stared at the dwarf for a while before speaking in his all-knowing, monotone voice.

"We will pay Dorne" the king decided. "The ships can wait. The pirates will be dealt with soon enough."

"And how do you know this?" Ser Brienne asked. "Was this another vision of yours?".

"Trust me, and do not worry. They will perish in Fire and Blood."

Davos was surprised by the king's indirect mention of Jon Snow. Bran had told Davos about Jon's identity shortly after his crowning. Although he trusted in the king's wisdom, he didn't quite see how or why his friend would go south to fight the Lyseni raiders. He had been gone for several moons by now, to the point that most of his brothers at the Night's Watch had presumed him to be dead. Unless Jon returned soon, the Watch had informed the kingdom that they would elect a new leader. Robett Glover, who had been sent to the Wall by queen Sansa for abandoning his oath, was currently the most popular candidate for the position, the possibility of which brought Davos worry. He remembered the traitor lord of Deepwood Motte, and would not be surprised if Glover had something to do with the Lord Commander's disappearance. At least Davos could trust Tormund, who now was the First Ranger of the Night's Watch.

"Any news of Jon Snow?" Davos compelled himself to ask the king.

"No. I will look for him now" Bran said before his eyes rolled to the back of his head, and with that, he was once again gone.

============================================================================

The memories regularly haunted Daenerys Targaryen, even fifteen years after the events that transpired. Struck down by the one she trusted the most, her heart still ached from the stabbing, figuratively as well as literally.  
He betrayed you.  
As the throne was within her grasp, she had allowed herself to be consumed by a sudden impulse of madness. Looking back, she could see how truly lost she was. In a way, that meant that she was no longer lost. Being resurrected had given her clarity. Dany spent years thinking about how different her life would have been if she hadn't burned King's Landing.

Kinvara, a red priestess of Volantis, had brought her back from the dead. Where was she? How long had she been gone? Was everything a dream? Then the thought had hit her.

She had never told Jon about the baby; he wouldn't give her an opportunity to tell him. Amidst her panic, however, Kinvara had assured her that the baby lived as well, and that there were two of them in her womb.

"They will bring light back to the world, just as the Lord of Light foretold."

Now, fifteen years later, Daenerys looked upon her daughter Visenya, sleeping sweetly at the opposite end of the room. Her innocent daughter had her father's hair color, but with a lock of silvery hair. She had the pale Stark skin and the Targaryen lilac eyes. She was a balanced mixture between Dany herself and Jon. Meanwhile, Visenya's twin brother Aemon who laid next to his sister possessed the Stark figure and the Targaryen colours. Other than a few differences, they both looked very alike. However, their likeness to their father also served as a constant memory of Jon's betrayal. The whole world was theirs for the taking, but he had thrown it all away as he plunged the dagger into her heart. She figured that he had his reasons, but the sadness regularly caused her to break down crying nonetheless. They were family, after all, they should stick together. Instead, Jon had chosen to side with the Starks, and he'd sooner die alone at the Wall than spend his life by Dany's side. Being brought back had extinguished her inner fire, her driving force to take what was rightfully hers. Even if she wanted to take Westeros back, Drogon hadn't been seen since he carried her to Kinvara. She was no longer the Mother of Dragons, nor was she the Dragon Queen. Now, she was only Daenerys: a sad shell of her former self.

The twins would never know their father, and none of them would ever get to rule over the realm that rightfully would belong to them. Daenerys and the children only had each other now, and she would do all in her power to protect them from their aunt: the Queen in the North, or their uncle: Bran Stark. Although Dany had told her twins about their family's greatness, the beauty of Westeros and the bravery of their father, she had yet to reveal the darker parts of their parents' history. Aemon and Visenya would eventually have to be told about the massacre in King's Landing and their father's betrayal. Dany didn't think it would have been that difficult, but she had found it difficult to even explain her incestuous origins to her children. All Dany knew was that they couldn't be sheltered forever. Having followed in her brother's footsteps, Daenerys had read about the prophecy of Azor Ahai, and had concluded, like Kinvara had, that Visenya and Aemon would bring light back to the world. Would that make Dany herself Azor Ahai? Or Jon? She was less sure. The only thing she was sure about right now was that her purpose for which she'd been brought back was to be the mother of these miraculous twins. The dragons might have been gone, but house Targaryen would endure.

==================

The streets of Asshai were abnormally dark. It was a shady and mysterious city, one that Arya had never been to before. To her sides stood merchants at their stands, trading items unknown to her. Out of all the places she had been to, Asshai was by far the most harrowing. Arya hoped to one day visit the city of Yeen in Sothoryos, as well as the Five Forts between Yi Ti and the Grey Wastes. However, her true goal was to find out what, if anything, existed in the far west. After the Mad Queen died and Bran was crowned, Arya had sailed westward to discover a new world. UItimately, she had been forced to return home, however, departing from Storm's End only a week after landing in Westeros. Since then, she had travelled throughout Essos as well as the Summer Islands and Naath. In Volantis, she had adopted a stray hound, which she had named Sandor; a tribute to the hero who had fallen during the war. She still missed Nymeria greatly, but hadn't seen the wolf for many years.

After much deliberation, Arya had bought a few gifts for her nephews Eddard, Robb and Rickon, as well as one for her own son Beric. She hadn't seen her boy since his infancy: she had left him at Storm's End. Hopefully, if Gendry had married by now, Beric's stepmother would love him like Arya never could, rather than being cold and resentful to him like Arya's own mother had been to Jon. Arya was simply not fit to be a mother: Beric didn't cry, laugh or show any other emotions whatsoever. His pale blue eyes only triggered memories from the Battle of Winterfell within her. While pondering about her life choices, she noticed the masked figure following her. Arya walked into an alleyway, where she quickly turned around at held her Valyrian steel dagger, the one that had killed the Night King, to the stalker's throat. Arya immediately came to the conclusion that the figure was a Shadowbinder.

"Do not kill me, Arya Stark, for I have something to tell you", the female voice from underneath the mask spoke. Arya subsequently sheathed her dagger. "The wyrm has delayed for too long. You need to bring it home, Arya Stark."

Drogon had apparently taken refuge within a dormant crater at the mountain range nearby. That was the reason Arya had originally decided to come to Asshai: she needed to see the dragon to believe the rumors. However, she hadn't seen the dragon leave the mountain to hunt for food. Ever since that fateful day in King's Landing, Arya had sworn to kill Drogon. She had once admired dragons and the Targaryen dragonrider princesses and queens, but after seeing the destruction that Drogon and the Mad Queen had caused, she had made it her responsibility to hunt the last remaining dragon down. Since the Targaryens were gone, however, Drogon might not return to spread destruction. Maybe approaching him would only reignite his rage? One thing she was sure of, however. She would never allow a dragon to ever return to Westeros again, which was exactly what the woman demanded.

"Do you know what he has done? The countless lives lost to his fire? Who even are you?"

"My name is Quaithe", the shadowbinder told her. "Do you not understand the amount of lives the black dragon saved during the War for the Dawn? Chaos is coming to Westeros once more, assassin, they will need his help more than ever."

Arya did not trust Quaithe. However, the thought of harm coming to her family, including Beric and Gendry, frightened her. She would think further of this task.

" Valar Morghulis ", Quaithe told her as she left.

" Valar Dohaeris ".

============================================


	2. Last Act Of Service

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon meets a familiar savior in a strange place.

Jon's legs hurt when he arrived at the strange tower he had originally seen a few days ago. He had thought it strange that there would be a stone tower this far into the Lands of Always Winter. The wildlings lived under far simpler, sometimes nomadic, conditions. Tormund had taught Jon a lot about surviving in the far north: Jon had sent the wildling back to the Wall to keep an eye on Robett Glover, who currently commanded Castle Black. Sansa had sent the former lord of Deepwoode Motte to the Wall for treason: he had failed the Starks twice during Jon's campaigns over a decade ago. However, his noble status had quickly placed him high on the Night's Watch hierarchy, and Jon was sure that he would be trying to take the Lord Commander position for himself, if Jon didn't return shortly.

As he entered the tower, Jon saw the skeletal remains of what must have been ancient First Men, all frozen in death as they were kneeling in front of a tomb. A tomb which, upon closer inspectation, was empty.

_He rested here for thousands of years, until something happened. Until his remains were awakened by events destined to take place so long ago... Seek me out at the top of this citadel. We have much to discuss._

The voice had seemingly returned. Since he sent Tormund back, the voice had become his only companion in these frozen lands. Even Ghost had seemed afraid of approaching the tower. Once upon a time, Jon wouldn't have obeyed a strange voice, but ever since he killed Dany, Jon had felt himself becoming a hollowed shell of a man. Now, Jon didn't seem to have any other option than to acquiesce, as he walked past the dead men and proceeded up the stairs to the roof of the tower.

The top floor of the tower had seven pillars that jutted out from the edges. At the middle of it all was a seat, looking like a throne fit for a king. Jon felt a sharp pain in his chest as he thought about how much it resembled the throne room in King's Landing, the day he ceased to be. But what he set his eyes upon was the charred body occupying the throne.

"It took me this long to reach you again, Aegon Targaryen." The charred body spoke to him. It had the same voice as the one Jon had heard in his head, but this time it came from the burned man on the throne, and not from within.

"Who are you? Why did you need me to come here?"

"Ever since I was freed from the grasp of the Night King, I felt a calling that led me here. Due to not fully having become a wight, I retained consciousness, but not control. I was tortured, having to fight my own people and attack my own home. The black dragon freed me from my torture, but my fate was already sealed."

Jon pieced it together. "You're my uncle Benjen."

What remained of his uncle nodded. "I was. Now I oversee where the souls enter and leave. The one who separates the living from the dead. And you were Jon Snow, the King in the North. Since then, your life's greatest question was answered, but at what cost? Others have reaped the fruits of your struggle, and you could not even save the love of your life from herself."

Jon felt his dragon's blood boil. "And is that why you made me come here? To insult me? I did _everything_ for Westeros! Every sacrifice I made was for the survival of the realm! My sisters haven't spoken to me since I left, my living brother haunts me in the form of a raven, and the thoughts of my aunt haunt me in my sleep. Now my own uncle, who I assumed gone, scolds me for my mistakes? You should have let the dead tear me apart."

A few seconds passed until his uncle spoke again.

"You do not know what this place is. This was the home of the Night King. He built this tower after he had been stabbed by the Children of the Forest. His power to raise the dead gave him a godlike reputation. But he did not die, at least not... permanently. As he finished his final breath, already in his tombstone, the cold enveloped his closest followers and they became the Others. The reason he chose this place is because this is the place where the souls pass into the afterlife. You were among them, meant to be his greatest weapon against the living. But something prevented you from entering the Abyss: home of the Great Other whom the Night King served."

Jon shaked his head. "No, I remember. There was nothing after I died. I was dead, and then I was alive."

Benjen chuckled. "With all due respect, you would not remember. The sight of the afterlife was never meant for mortals and the gods made it so that you have no memory of being there when you returned. Even I have only seen glimpses of it, and I have felt the prescence of souls that have come and three of which have returned five and ten years ago. Two of them I did not recognize, but one was the soul of Nissa Nissa and Daenerys Targaryen."

Hearing the name of his love made Jon shiver in regret, so much so that he did not even understand the implication of what Benjen had just said.

"Jon, I have reason to believe that she is alive." Jon's eyes widened. He finally realized what was being said. 

"You cannot go to her yet, though, I am afraid. The Night's Watch is in trouble. Glover is a threat, why I am not allowed to tell you. Events will transpire and the Night's Watch will be needed once again. But beware of the Three Eyed Raven." His voice suddenly sounded more human. "He will deceive you."

"Bran?" Jon asked. "He wouldn't--"

"Not Bran, Prince that was promised. The one who controls him, the Lord of the Afterlife, in which I have one foot. The one who destroyed a city with but a whisper in the ear of a broken queen. The Great Other.


	3. Exiled Dragons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The black dragon returns.

Visenya had barely awakened when she heard the screech. She had dreamt that she was a dragon: flying through the lands of Essos, over the Dothraki wastelands, a mountain range, as well as the familiar hills of Andalos.

As Visenya opened the windows, she saw the dragon that emitted the screech. Her mother had told her stories of dragons before, such as the mighty Balerion, Vhagar, Meraxes and Drogon. The latter lived most recently, but he had gone missing before Visenya was born. Her mother had told Visenya about how she had been like a mother to Drogon, and had ridden him while trying to reclaim her lands of Westeros. Visenya had never been told about how that campaign had ended, but she had heard gossip and deduced that her mother was indeed the Dragon Queen and the Mother of Dragons, but Visenya had also heard some Westerosi merchants refer to her as the Mad Queen.

She noticed her mother walking into the room, joining her at the window with a look of fear and longing in her face.

"Is that Drogon?", Visenya asked her mother, who nodded.

=====================================

Dany and Visenya were seated on horses, following where Drogon had flown. Dany had hoped to find her dragon, and Visenya seemed excited to meet her brother. Aemon hadn't been able to join them, as much as he'd wanted to. The Braavosi government had decided that all males above the age of ten would be trained in swordfighting. Although it pained Dany that her son might one day have to die for some trade war, she knew that the training wouldn't be hard: Aemon had already shown skills in swordfighting, much like his father before him.

"Why did Drogon leave you, mother?", Dany's daughter asked her. She's almost fifteen now. It is time to tell her.

"Your father killed me." Daenerys started, then started explaining. "I never told him that I was pregnant; never found the right opportunity under the circumstances. He was a good and honorable man, but he was misled by some traitors of mine, and ended up pushing me away. I was under much pain and suffering at the time, and I ended up making mistakes. After we had won, he betrayed me. Drogon took me to Kinvara, however, and we were brought back to life." Dany turned away from Visenya, not wanting her daughter to see her cry.

"Father killed us? What kind of man would kill the woman he loved?" Visenya had the same sentimental look on her face that Jon had when he confronted Dany at the throne room. The thought made Dany shudder.

"I knew him as Jon Snow, although his birth name was Aegon Targaryen: my nephew. He was the King in the North, who I summoned to bend the knee. Instead, he convinced me to come north with him to fight the army of the dead. We were in love, and we created you and Aemon, and shortly after that was when he found out the truth about his own parents and that he, not I, was the true heir to the Iron Throne. We defeated the dead and the evil Queen Cersei, but Jorah, Missandei and my other two dragons were killed during the wars I waged. I wanted to forge a perfect world for you, so that, when you were born, you would be my undisputed heirs. The lengths I went for the Throne, however, led me to commit heinous acts. That is why your father betrayed me."

"You don't blame him? If I ever met him, I'd kill him for hurting you like that."

"I will never forgive Jon for ruining my life's work, but I now understand his reasons for doing it." Dany smiled at her daughter, whom she loved and savored more than any throne could. Jon would have loved her as much, wherever he is. "The real blame I would put on my advisors and your aunts. They were the ones who pushed me and your father to our fates."

Visenya sighed, looking sad. "I wish we could've lived together as a family, even if it meant we wouldn't have a throne. But father had to ruin everything. Where even is he now?"

"Last I heard of him six years ago, he was the Lord Commander at the Night's Watch. Your uncle Bran Stark was chosen by my advisors to be king of most of Westeros, while your aunt Sansa Stark is Queen in the North."

In front of them, below the ridge they were riding on, they saw Drogon lying curled around something. As Dany gave it a closer look, she saw two dragon eggs.


	4. The Plague

"What happened to the people here?", the young brother asked.

"Sickness. I've seen its like before". Tormund had experienced plagues before, but none as devastating as this. Mole's Town was completely dead: corpses everywhere, but no living people in sight. It had come from the north - Tormund was sure of it - but how could it have spread?

The spring was always riddled with disease and death. Jon had told Tormund of a Great Spring Sickness that had killed his ancestors. Despite all the castles, fortresses and walls the southerners could build, even they couldn't protect themselves from disease.

"Find traces of any survivors. Provisions, horses, footprints, whatever you can find."

=======================================================

The Small Council meeting started late this day. Yohn Royce had been claimed by pneumonia, and the funeral ceremonies had taken place this day. Royce's passing meant that they'd need a new Master of Laws.

When Tyrion had walked into the chamber to attend the meeting, he had seen that everyone except the king was already there. When Ser Podrick eventually escorted the king into the room, Maester Sam was the first to speak.

"We have received more chilling reports of the plague up north. However, this time it seems like it has ravaged Mole's Town. Somehow, it must've spread through the Wall."

Tyrion frowned. Probably some Night's Watch guard spread it to some whore. "Then it should naturally spread to the North first. Does your sister know?" Tyrion nodded in Bran's direction. Rather than answering his Hand's question, however, the King simply turned his empty gaze toward the window. The boy never ceases to mystify me. Was it a bad idea to name him king? Tyrion quickly dismissed the thought. The era of plotting and intrigue was over: Bran was, compared to prior kings, a benevolent and just ruler. By picking a wise and mostly content council, and leaving the day-to-day decisions to them, Bran had, by most accounts, been a successful king.

"Any news from the Night's Watch fortresses? Has the plague affected them?" Davos asked.

"It seemed to completely have bypassed Castle Black, according to First Steward Clydas and Tormund Giantsbane." Samwell Tarly informed them. "The last missive from Eastwatch mentioned nothing about any plague. The Shadow Tower has not sent any ravens for us."

Tyrion looked toward the King again. His eyes were rolled back into his head. I suppose this is my decision, then.

"Send an investigation crew to the Shadow Tower."

=======================================================

Dany pulled the strange object from Drogon's scale. It was some sort of pin, with a wolf's head on it. House Stark?

She picked up one of Drogon's eggs. "This is a dragon egg, Visenya. Eventually, a dragon will hatch from it. When that day comes, I want you to bond with it, like I did with Drogon". She handed the egg to her daughter

She remembered Kinvara's words about her children bringing light back into the world. Maybe this was a sign of it being true?

=======================================================

It was Visenya's and Aemon's fifteenth nameday, and she had decided to sneak out during the night and visit Drogon and the eggs. As much as Visenya loved her brother, she couldn't risk telling him in fear of him telling their mother of Visenya's plans. After all, their mother had only been about the age Visenya was now when she first rode a dragon. Would Drogon let her fly on him if she tried to?

Drogon was guarding its eggs, and Visenya noticed a scar on the dragon's scales. It looked like a massive arrow had pierced it. Feeling sorry for Drogon, Visenya walked toward him and petted his head.

"Hello, Drogon" Visenya greeted her "brother", who turned his head to her, leaned in and made a purring noise. Afterwards, he lowered himself, making an inviting move for Visenya to climb onto his back. He's offering a ride... Curious, Visenya sat on her mother's dragon's back, after which Drogon grabbed the eggs in its claws, and started running out of the cave.

Visenya almost regretted climbing onto Drogon, but when he started flying, she couldn't help but feel a strange sort of freedom that she had never known before. _I am the blood of the dragon._


	5. Storm and Snow

The forge of Storm's End was active as always - all thanks to Gendry himself. As soon as he found out how boring ruling was, he had immediately started construction on an expansion of the forge in Storm's End, where he could be productive. Thanks to the Baratheon Foundry, Westerosi smithing now rivaled that of Qohor. Generarlly, Gendry was considered a great lord, but he himself had found no happiness with his elevated position as Lord of the Stormlands. At heart, he was a simple blacksmith; it was what he found enjoyment in. Whenever not in the forge, his life was empty and bland. Not even his own son wanted to spend time with him, preferring books and prophecies to combat and hunting. Although several of the older courtiers told Gendry of how similar Beric Baratheon looked to King Robert, his personality could not be more different. Instead, Beric's manners were more akin to that of his uncle Bran. Sooner or later, however, the boy would have to learn how to rule. Despite his insistence of not wanting the lordship, Gendry had told him multiple times that it was his duty as a Baratheon, and that he'd never have any siblings to take the responsibility, for Gendry would never marry any other woman than Arya Stark, should she ever change her mind. It was a tiny chance that she would, but Gendry wanted to be available to her if the opportunity arose.

Gendry had received a letter from Lord Tyrion, asking him to become the new Master of Laws, to replace the late Yohn Royce. Gendry had declined, not wanting to waste away in king's Landing. Politics was a foul business, and Gendry wanted none more of it. The nation of the Six Kingdoms was in another age than Westeros had been in a decade ago. The great lords had far greater power than they had during the rule of the Targaryens. Even though the responsibilities of ruling were greater, Gendry knew it was for the better. The alternative would have been that Daenerys Targaryen, known as either the Dragon Queen or the Mad Queen would have ruled. After her death, however, Gendry had still pushed for King Bran to renounce Jon Snow's Night's Watch vows, so that he could, if not announce himself as the last trueborn Targaryen and rule as king, at least could live out his days in peace. However, Bran and most of the other lords and members of the Small Council had refused, saying that Jon was either a traitor or that he wouldn't accept anyway. Only Davos Seaworth had supported Gendry, as Jon Snow had been a great friend to them both. Snow had sacrificed everything, thrown away his birthright and - if Tyrion and Davos' accounts as well as Gendry's suspicions were to be considered - killed the woman he loved, who also happened to be his queen. For all his efforts, he had received nothing, and had even gained a sentence of exile. When Gendry last met him six years ago, Jon Snow had been a broken shell of a man, barely showing any signs of emotion at all.

Gendry beat his smithing hammer into the shield, taking out his stress and anger onto the bulwark that might one day save his life from a deadly blow. The large black dragon had been seen near Braavos, and Gendry feared for the safety of the people of Westeros. Ever since he heard that it had flown away, the lords knew that it would return sometime. Worst at risk was, however, Sansa Stark in Winterfell. She had been one of the main reasons for the downfall of Jon Snow and Daenerys Targaryen with her plotting, and the dragon might've sensed this, causing it to fly there to burn the castle to ashes. Would it come for them next?

Gendry lowered his newly forged shield into the water, cooling it. He then went to hang it on the wall and walked out of the forge. As he exited, a ship approached in the distance. It took him a while, but Gendry eventually noticed the wolf's head on the ship. Could it really be her? He started to make his way to the shipyard at a quick pace.

======================================================================================

The Bridge of Skulls was strangely abandoned. Jon understood that something was wrong. Denys Mallister, who was charged with protecting the bridge, was an obedient commander, unlike Robett Glover and Lyn Corbray. Jon would have to inspect the Shadow Tower; something must have happened. Jon took out his horn and blew it, signaling for anyone who might be on the other side, as the mists were clouding his vision. That was when he heard a loud screeching noise. The ghost of Drogon? Am I going insane? Such illusions, both audible and visual, were frequent in his nightmares, but Jon hadn't heard any in his awoken state until now. Regardless, he carried on across the bridge, with Ghost a few steps behind him. After a few seconds, Jon heard a horn responding to him. Good. The Watch is still here.

At the Shadow Tower, however, Jon noticed the charred remains of the castle. Everything had been burned down. Some wildlings were busy digging graves, and some of them were gathered in a circle around something. Jon pushed them aside and moved to the middle of a circle, where he found Tormund beating a robed man who looked like a maester. "Enough!" He said to Tormund, who turned around, his troubled facial expression turning into a confused and surprised one.

"Where the fuck have you been?", he asked, letting go of his prisoner. "The Shadow Tower has been destroyed. Every brother dead from plague. This man is no brother; we found him and his companions here but we only let one of them live to tell us what happened."

"Put him in an ice cell then. We have much to discuss."

***

Jon was furious. Tormund had told him that Glover had declared himself Lord Commander, so that Jon no longer had any actual command within the Night's Watch. Jon understood that he could leave and disappear from the public, if they thought that he was dead. He dismissed the thought: he had nowhere to go, nothing to live for. Ghost, as well as his loyal Night's Watch brothers, were the only people he still had on his side. He had killed Dany, Davos and Gendry were busy ruling, Tyrion and Samwell had let him down, Arya hadn't been seen in years, while Bran and Sansa were completely different people than the ones he had known in Winterfell.

"There is something else, as well..." Tormund started. "We saw the dragon flying over the Wall before."

Jon felt a chill down his spine, and didn't know if it was because of the cold or Tormund's statement. So that really was Drogon? But why would he be here? He would be in grave danger: Most of Westeros wanted him dead, and Jon did not know the lengths of which Sansa would go to kill the last remaining dragon. Dany hadn't been present at the tower where Jon met the dead Targaryens, maybe she'd forgive him if he prevented Drogon's death? That's what she would have wanted me to do. I betrayed her, but I will not betray her dragon.

"Where are you going?" Tormund asked when Jon went to saddle one of the horses.

"Starve the prisoner until he starts talking, and do not take orders from Robett Glover. I'm going to find Drogon."

======================================================================================

Visenya tried hard to cling onto Drogon's scales. Although the dragon did its best to keep her onto his back, the blowing winds made it difficult not to fall off. Sneaking out to ride Drogon had been a mistake, Visenya should've stayed with her mother. As she looked down from the back of Drogon, she saw the Wall: the legendary structure that kept the Others at bay. Her father had been Lord Commander there, and Visenya felt a longing for meeting her father at the same time as she wanted to go as far away as possible from it. If what her mother had told her was true, her father must've hated her if he knew of her and Aemon's existence.

"Drogon, we need to go back. This isn't safe!" she shouted toward Drogon. The dragon was flying in the opposite direction of the wind, and Visenya was barely able to hold on. At first, she felt relieved once Drogon descended, but logic soon took over and she understood the risk of them being seen and attacked. But Drogon didn't respond to her demands, and proceeded to land ungracefully on the ground. Why, Drogon? He screeched in what Visenya thought was pain, and that's when she climbed off and noticed the spear that had impaled Drogon's back.

Tears poured down Visenya's face. She grabbed the projectile and tried to pull it outl. Thankfully, it looked like the spear had hit a hard scale, and hadn't pierced the flesh of the dragon. Still, Visenya wasn't strong enough. She regretted sneaking out. She wanted to be back home, where her mother could comfort her and her brother could hug her. And Drogon would still be unharmed. Instead, she had found herself in this evil land, the land that had betrayed her mother, destroyed her dynasty and shattered her family. The sound of horses nearby, however, made her turn her head and look around.

Three riders in steel - Visenya presumed they were Westerosi Knights - closed in on her. Their tabards were white and had the symbol of a grey wolf on them. The crest of house Stark. Her mother had warned her of Queen Sansa, the manipulative ruler of the North.

"Here it is!" one of the men said in a strange, unfamiliar accent. "Time to finish the beast. Avenge the thousands killed in Ki--". He interrupted himself once he noticed Visenya. By now, all three riders had dismounted, and one of them, a fat and bearded ugly man, walked toward her with a mace in hand. "Who the fuck are you?" Visenya didn't answer, but stepped backwards while the man approached her. When he was within striking range of Visenya, however, he turned his gaze toward the source of the sound of hooves approaching. Drogon lifted his wings and prepared to fly away, but screeched in pain again when it tried to move a damaged muscle.

As the man was distracted, Visenya tried to run away, but ended up bumping into another man, the one who had arrived and distracted the knights. He had dark, curly hair and a beard, and was dressed in black. "Stay put, girl." he told her, before turning his gaze toward the three knights as he drew his sword.

"This is the New Gift", he told the men. "You are trespassing on Night's Watch lands."

The fat one scoffed at the lone man. "Fuck off, criminal scum. We are here only to kill the black beast. The Queen and the Imp will reward us for bringing either of them his head, and we do not intend on sharing the pot of gold with you. Now, fuck off before I kill you and the girl as well!" Despite the threats, the lone man stood unshaken.

"Boldly stated." The man pulled the projectile out of Drogon's scale, who proceeded to run forward and fly away. No! Drogon! What about me?

"Fool! Now he will come back and kill us all!" another one of the knights yelled, drawing his greatsword and swinging it at the man in black, who simply dodged the attack and plunged his own sword through the chest of the attacker. The two other men then charged toward him, but he grabbed the fat one by the shoulder, spun him around and sliced his throat at the narrow gap between helmet and chestplate. He decimated them like how Aemon would dominate his opponents during sword practicing back home. The remaining soldier, who appeared to be much younger than the other two, dropped his halberd and backed away. He is far too inexperienced to be a knight.

"I-I'm simply a boy, ser, th-th-th-these two convinced me to co--" he stammered, but the man in black sheathed his sword and walked up to the young soldier.

"Go back to Winterfell. Tell your queen... not to attack Drogon again. Tell her to destroy any scorpions or ballistae, or he will return with fire and blood." He shoved the man away, who quickly mounted his horse and rode away, the other two horses following behind. Visenya's saviour turned to her, now with a more concerned look in his eyes. "Are you hurt?" Visenya shaked her head.

"Why did you... Drogon, he...." Visenya was looking for the right questions to ask him. "What if Drogon doesn't come back? Why did you help us?"

The man had a hint of a sad smile on his face. "I failed the dragons once" was all he answered on the subject. "What's your name, girl?"

Visenya hesitated. Normally, she, Aemon and their mother used made-up names to conceal their identity. Her mother had been followed throughout the entirety of her youth and did not want her children to experience the same. But Visenya knew she could trust this man; he had saved Drogon, the black dragon that had laid waste to King's Landing a decade ago.

"My name is Visenya" she answered, not yet revealing her last name, just in case. My parents were never married, anyway. I wouldn't be considered a Targaryen here. The man nodded, looking like he was deep in thought.

"Well met, Visenya. I am a brother of the Night's Watch. Don't worry, Drogon will come back for you, but in the meantime, I can help you to some shelter and provisions for some days."


	6. The Narrow Sea

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Davos is visited by an old friend. Aemon and Daenerys go to find Visenya.

The construction of the royal fleet was proceeding rapidly. Davos had been sent to Dragonstone to oversee the shipwrights: they had to be ready for the pirate threat, and Dragonstone had become a defensive stronghold to safeguard the Blackwater. Seven commanders had been placed at Dragonstone, one of which was Davos' son Devan, who prided himself in having once been the "squire" of Jon Snow. Davos and his oldest living son had had a joyful reunion after years apart, and it was particularly important for Davos to spend time with his remaining sons now that Marya had passed away from a spring sickness a few years ago. Although Davos was a competent Master of Ships, he longed for his withdrawal from politics, so that he could retire and be with his boys until the end of his days. They had grown into honorable knights, and for once in his life, Davos was at ease.

"M'lord, you have visitors" a guard told him. Davos nodded, and the guard stepped aside, revealing Gendry and Beric Baratheon. What surprised Davos even more, however, was the woman behind them. Although Davos didn't recognize her at first, her Valyrian steel dagger revealed her identity as Arya Stark.

"Ser Davos. We need to have a word with you." Gendry greeted.

***

They were sitting in the chamber with the painted table. Gendry and Arya had tried to convince Davos of coming with them to the North, to find Jon Snow, all because of what a shadowbinder had told the Stark girl a few months ago.

"Do we even know if he's alive? Robett Glover is Lord Commander now. Are you sure that the shadowbinder was telling the truth?"

"She was telling me the truth about Drogon. She knew where he was. I was the one who awakened him; and I almost got burned in the process. Quaithe - the shadowbinder - told me that the dead were not so easily banished. The Night King might be gone, but the... thing he served is still out there. If there is any possibility of the dead returning, we will once again need the Prince That Was Promised. Whoever Jon is now, you and the wildling leader know him better than anyone. We need your help, Davos Seaworth. Come north with us."

"Fine, I will aid you however I can. Hopefully, Tormund Giantsbane can help us as well. And what about him? Is he coming with us?" Davos nodded toward Beric, and couldn't help but notice how the hound next to the fourteen year old boy acted like an extension of his conscience, much like Ghost had been to Jon Snow. Starks and their canines.

The boy looked Davos in the eyes; the same Baratheon eyes that he had seen in Stannis and Gendry, but with an icy blue colour that chilled Davos to the bone. He slowly nodded. "They did not want me to, but my destiny lies in the North, for I have seen it."

=====================================================================================

Soon, they would arrive in White Harbour. Even though Dany never wanted to set foot on Westeros again, fate had forced her hand once more. A few loyal neighbours had informed her and Aemon of Visenya sneaking out of the city, and recent information had come from Winterfell about a black dragon attack, where two soldiers had been killed. What worried Dany the most, however, was the claim of a young girl being present at the showdown.

"I promise, mother, I'll kill every Stark mongrel if they laid a hand on Visenya or Drogon." Aemon grumbled. He was repeatedly grabbing the hilt of his sword, and Dany thought that her son might have drawn his blade and cut down everybody there at any moment. Despite being more of a brooding, calm man, Aemon had a special bond with Visenya, and Dany suspected that they were more than siblings to each other, as Kinvara had told her that Visenya had asked for moon tea which the red priestess had provided. Regardless, Dany was worried that Aemon would snap and do something stupid.

"You will harm no one. We are here to find your sister and my dragon, not for vengeance against the North. After all, the Starks are your cousins. I will not let my son become a kinslayer."

"Like Father became when he killed you? When he killed us? No, I will not kill anyone, but... if Visenya..." Dany could see tears forming in her son's eyes, but didn't know what to say, so she simply put her arms around him.

=====================================================================================

Somehow, the northmen had known that they were coming.

The guards had seized Aemon's mother, she must have been recognized because of her lilac eyes, since she had dyed her hair black prior to the voyage. As soon as they had disembarked, they noticed that the soldiers of the Queen had been waiting for them. A red-haired woman, whose luxurious appearance hinted that she was none other than Queen Sansa Stark herself.

"You dare show your face in Westeros again, after all you did?" she had said through clenched teeth.

"I am here only to retrieve my dragon and d-" His mother had interrupted herself, most likely not wanting to reveal the existence of her children to the northern queen.

"You committed a massacre in King's Landing, Daenerys Targaryen. This heinous deed is punishable with death. House Stark, however, respects honor and a noble's right to trial. Until then, you will remain in custody behind the walls of Winterfell. You will come with us, Mad Queen, or your inevitable punishment will only be harsher. So I ask: Will you accept your fate willingly and cause no trouble?"

His mother sighed. "I will... Sansa Stark." The guards had led her to a small wagon.

"Lady Dustin, escort the Mad Queen to the Winterfell dungeon. Lady Meera Reed, go with her!"

That was the last thing Aemon had heard the red-haired woman say. As soon as they had stepped out of the ship, the soldiers had arrested Aemon's mother. Aemon thought that he could have killed a few of the soldiers (he did have some experience as he had killed a Lysene swordsman last year), but they would inevitably overwhelm and kill him. Also, he had promised his mother on the ship that he wouldn't cause unnecessary killing, so he just stood there, helpless, as the older woman led his mother away. Thankfully, the guards hadn't paid any attention to Aemon, so he had been able to easily slip away, vowing to free her when the opportunity arose. In the meantime, he would follow the prisoner transport. His current plan was to wait until nightfall, sneak toward wherever they would make camp, and find a way to get his mother out. The risk was high, but if the caravan made its way to Winterfell there was no way freeing her.

He had recognized some of the banners around White Harbor. Although his mother had focused on Aemon having a happy upbringing without too many worries, the red priests had pressured him into learning about politics, heraldry and martial skills such as swordfighting and archery. The prisoner transport was escorted by bannermen of houses Dustin, Ryswell, Reed and Stark. In charge of it was Lady Barbrey Dustin herself, whom Aemon had some knowledge about. The widow of the former lord, she had supported house Bolton but had later become one of the head advisors of Queen Sansa. One traitor taking advice from another never benefits all. Time will tell who will end up on top. Aemon knew of that first hand; it had led to his own death in the womb.

=====================================================================================

"I killed a giant when I was ten years old" the wildling told Visenya while drinking from a big horn.

"She doesn't need to hear about that one, Tormund", the man who saved her laughed. "I've heard it enough times for all of us." When Visenya had asked about his name, the man had told her that he used to be known as the White Wolf in the South. "Nowadays, I'm but a brother of the Night's Watch, if even that. "

Tormund looked her in the eyes with one eyebrow raised. "You don't seem very surprised about my mention of giants, little girl. You'd be the first southerner I've met who actually believed me."

In truth, Visenya hadn't been very attentive, being tired after a long day's work while waiting for Drogon to return, but she responded to Tormund anyway. "I know that giants are real. My mother mentioned them." The wildling sighed, nodded and turned around, before whispering "were".

Suddenly a roar was heard, followed by the screams of scared people. Visenya stepped out of the wildling hovel, and saw that Drogon had finally come back to her. While excited to return home to her mother and brother, a hunch she had made her look behind her, seeing how the White Wolf and Tormund, unlike everybody else, stood unscared behind her. Visenya was about to thank the men and bid farewell, when she saw an actual white wolf emerge from the shadows and approach her, proceeding to walk around her and sniffing at her, after which it licked at her.

"To my side, Ghost" its master told it, and it walked over to him. Ghost. _The White Wolf. It's just as I suspected, then._

"You are Jon Snow."

The man sighed, lowered his head and nodded. He then returned his gaze to Visenya and said. "I am a brother of the Night's Watch."

Visenya took out the dagger she had been given by her mother a few years ago, the very same dagger that had once killed Daenerys Targaryen and the children in her womb. She contemplated stabbing the man, but threw the dagger on the ground instead. "I believe this is yours." she said coldly. "How could you do it? She loved you." She saw tears forming in Snow's eyes, and she climbed onto Drogon's back. The dragon immediately flew away.

Instead of taking her southeast to Braavos, however, it looked like the dragon was flying straight south.


	7. King of the Wall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aemon makes a desperate rescue attempt. Jon and Tormund rally the Free Folk.

"Robett Glover! Former Lord of Deepwoode Motte, acting Lord Commander! Your Lord Commander has returned! Open the gate now, or be branded a traitor!" The wildling had a huge stature and was chosen by Jon Snow himself to be the herald of the host.

Glover had refused to relinquish his command of the Wall, even after Jon had sent a raven announcing his return.

_I wish Ghost was here._ The direwolf had went out hunting during the evening. They had thought it better to return during the night, in case the transpiring events would go badly.

After a minute or two, the former lord himself stepped forward and showed himself behind the walls above the gatehouse. He looked down at Jon and Tormund with a disappointing and arrogant look.

"I had thought you perished in the far north. It appears I was wrong: you decided to abandon the Watch instead; that is, until you wanted your power back. The Night's Watch stand behind me, turncoat. I suggest you tell your band of wildlings to return north, while you and Giantsbane will receive merciful beheadings. Do I make myself clear?" As he finished speaking, Night's Watch archers appeared behind the walls with bows, aiming for the Free Folk host.

Jon sighed. This, again? "We don't need to do this, Robett. This can be settled in single combat, between us. We will enter Castle Black."

Robett nodded, and stepped away. One of the Glover loyalists fired an arrow into the throat of one of the Free Folk. Jon was suddenly pushed aside, and he turned his head up to see the crier stand above him, riddled with arrows, while Tormund blocked several arrows with his ironwood shield while shouting orders at the Free Folk.

"Scale the walls! Kill the archers! Robett Glover dies today! "

==============================================

Being a lone rider, Aemon could easily intercept the prisoner caravan and scout ahead. If they were travelling at the same speed as they had for the last few days, he estimated that they were one day away from Winterfell. Tonight is my final chance. I have to do this.

He grabbed his scabbard from the horse he had stolen and strapped it around his waist. He pulled up the hood and walked toward the camp.

***

Sneaking to the camp was easy; most of the guards were passed out drunk. However, as Aemon approached the main wagon - most likely where his mother was being held - he heard a voice behind him.

"Fuck off, thief, or I'll kill you." The man appeared to be a knight of White Harbor, with a chainmail vest and a Manderly tabard on top of it. He drew his two-handed sword, upon which Aemon drew his own bastard sword, and the two of them engaged in single combat.

Because of his heavy weapon, the knight's attacks were slow and made it easy for Aemon to dodge them. He tried not to make the swords clash, since he was worried that the metallic sound would wake some of the guards up. However, when Aemon managed to drive his sword through the knight's chest, his opponent screamed in pain, causing some of the guards to slowly rise and pick up their weapons. As Aemon thought he was about to die, the sight of a dragon's silhouette caused him to step away from the soldiers on the other side of the camp from Aemon and the wagons. Drogon! Aid me!

As Drogon was close enough, he swooped down and scorched the earth beneath him, engulfing the northern soldiers in flames. A woman clad in white robes emerged from the main tent, and Aemon grabbed her by the collar. "I'm here for Daenerys Targaryen. Give me the key to her cell or face the consequences. She quickly handed him the key, after which he opened his mother's cell.

The former queen stepped out of the wagon, and looked sadly at the devastation her dragon had caused.

"Since you were born, I sought to protect you from the evils of this world. It seems I failed as a mother as well... Do you know if Visenya-". She was interrupted by the voice coming from behind Drogon.

"Mother! Aemon! Drogon carried me here!"

Aemon rushed toward his sister and embraced her. "You saved us, Visenya. Thank you." However, she shaked her head.

"I didn't do anything, I did not even know you were here. I simply climbed onto Drogon's back. I cannot control him..." She turned her gaze to their mother. "... But you can, mother. Take us home!"

"We cannot return to Braavos. Because you flew over here, they know that I am alive." Their mother said. She didn't look angry, although her words were harsh. "There is, however, a place where we can be safe, at least for a while. Naath."

As they were preparing to leave on Drogon, Aemon noticed the raven that landed on the charred remains of one of the wagons. Something wasn't right about it: it looked like it was watching them. Aemon stepped closer and noticed the three white eyes.

==============================================

As usual, the king was sitting in his chair, consciously absent and probably possessing some poor entity somewhere in the world. Tyrion simply sat down at his seat and poured himself a chalice of wine. For once, Tyrion was almost first to arrive at the council meeting: only Samwell Tarly was already there.

"Isn't it sad never seeing your family except on a few occasions? Wouldn't you rather have your wife here than in Horn Hill? Educate Sam and Falyse?" Tyrion had to stop himself from using the derogatory titles for Sam Tarly's children. The boy, Sam, was known as the Stupid because of his disability, while the girl Falyse was known as the Fat . However, their father loved them very much, and Tyrion wanted to keep at least one good friend in the capital: Davos had been assigned to oversee ship construction at Dragonstone while Bronn's power had made him arrogant and scornful.

"Every day, Lord Hand, but I figured that they would be safer at home. We live in uncertain times, and with the latest news of the dragon reappearing in the North-"

"Daenerys Targaryen is alive, and she has twin children by Jon. The Targaryens are currently leaving the North." The King had returned from his warging, and his words made Sam gasp. So, it's true, then. The Mad Queen was brought back.

"She had told me that she couldn't have children. How do you know they were?" Tyrion asked the king.

"They look exactly like their parents, and I sensed that they were wargs, like Jon, myself, my siblings and nephews. They have also bonded with their own respective unhatched dragons."

"W-we have to do something!" cried Sam. "If the Targaryens are still there, they will come for us."

"No." Bran stated. "For now, their plan is to find somewhere safe where they will live out their days. However, I will not allow it: for I have another purpose for them. Fire and Ice must reunite, and I must bring them to the Wall."

With that, Bran rolled his eyes to the back of his head.

==============================================

Castle Black was on fire.

The battle reminded Jon of when the castle was attacked by Styr Magnar, only this time Jon was fighting on the side of the Free Folk. He had been hit with an arrow in the thigh, and had suffered a minor injury on his side when a sword had scraped against it. It had been a rough battle, but since the walls were breached and the gates opened, the fight seemed to have tilted to the Free Folk's advantage.

Jon recognized the cape of the Lord Commander from atop the Wall. Robett Glover was standing there, overseeing the battle and seemingly doing nothing. Coward. Seeing as his side was winning the battle, Jon decided to confront the Lord Commander, and rushed up the stairs of the Wall, almost slipping on an icy step.

As he reached the top of the Wall, Robett Glover had already drawn his sword, and it soon clashed with Longclaw. After a while of combat, Glover attacked Jon with a jumping blow, which Jon then blocked and countered, knocking his attacker back. In Glover's state of vulnerability, Jon rushed toward him and struck Longclaw through him.

"I am no more of a traitor than you..." Glover panted, coughing up blood. "...Queenslayer!"

After hearing the dying words of Robett Glover, Jon pulled Longclaw out from his body, pushing him down the Wall in the process. Seeing the corpse below the Wall, Jon sheathed Longclaw and knelt down, exhausted from battle. The fighting had seemingly subsided by now, as the traitors were either dead or had surrendered.

After a few minutes, Tormund had made his way up, and sat down next to Jon, looking down at the devastation left by the battle.

"The Night's Watch seems to be all wiped out by now. A more fitting title for you would be Jon Snow: King of the Wall. "

Jon scoffed and shook his head. "Jon Snow... That was never my real name. Turns out I always was what I had most envied and desired, but when I found out, it caused me nothing but grief and loss. I don't think I did the right thing, all those years ago. It didn't bring the innocents back, it didn't restore peace in the end. I only picked the lesser evil, Tormund, or at least what I thought was the lesser evil, but I could have done more. I pushed her away at the worst possible time, and I was part to blame for her downfall. I did so much for the people of the realm, and I received nothing but hatred in return. Even the girl with Drogon seemed to hate me, and she even had the dagger. I would have thought her a ghost, if you and Ghost hadn't seen her as well. I could have ruled with Dany, I could have been everything I had wanted, but instead I am here. I wish I could go back and change things, prevent the massacre in King's Landing, but there's nothing I can do to atone for what I did."

Tormund was silent for some seconds, but Jon then felt his heavy palm on his shoulder.

"Are you certain of that, Crow?"

Jon looked at the sky. The sunrise in the east was a beautiful sight to see, but what drew his attention was the sight of a dragon approaching the Wall from the south.


	8. Bloodbound

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon meets his entire family and old friends come to help.

She was just as breathtaking as she had been in King's Landing. Before he had killed her. Once Jon stepped out the southern gate of Castle Black, he noticed the tears in her eyes.

"You betrayed me."

"Aye, I did. It pained me, but I did."

Jon had tried to keep calm and collected, but felt himself tear up as the love of his life confronted him about a crime he didn't even want to commit.

"You and your conniving sisters and brother..." Dany's voice was angry and sad at the same time. "I did everything for you Starks. And I trusted _you_ when I was the most vulnerable. I should have let the dead destroy Winterfell..."

Jon could not look her in the eyes anymore, opting to instead stare down at the ground.

"Dany, all that happened, I--"

"You have lost the right to call me that. Not only did you kill me, you killed our children as well! You robbed them of their future as rulers of Westeros, and now your siblings--"

"_Enough!_ Jon looked up at her again. "I had to end your reign, Daenerys, I had to choose duty just as you chose fear." He turned his gaze to the ones who must be his children, who stood next to their mother and stared back at Jon coldly. "I did not have a choice, you have to understand that. After seeing what she did to the innocents of King's Landing, there was no other way out. If I had known she was pregnant, I would not... I would not have been able to do it."

The boy, whose name Jon didn't know, took a step forward. "I am Aemon Targaryen, your son. Regardless of what mother did, you betrayed her. Killed your own flesh and blood, your rightful liege. She trusted you. There is no justification for that."

Jon nodded. "Is that why you came here? To mete out justice and end my life? Good." _If blood is what they want, blood is what they'll get._ He drew Longclaw and Dany took a step back as if she was recoiling in fear. "Since the day I killed you, Daenerys, I have lived in a constant state of guilt and anguish." He then threw Longclaw in front of her. "Go ahead. You'll be doing me a favour."

Aemon put his hand on his mother's shoulder, and Dany nodded to him. He picked up his father's sword and walked up to Jon.

Jon didn't have the stomach to look his son in the eyes. The son he killed. All he could do was whisper. "I'm so sorry..."

That was when he heard the heavy footsteps behind him. _Tormund._ The wildling took a stand behind Jon and started speaking.

"Those are your children, crow? I can see you in them. Dragon Queen, I hope you don't plan on burning _our_ home too, although we would at least be warm for a while." Jon looked up again and saw Tormund pacing around Aemon before stopping in front of him. He grabbed Longclaw with one hand and slapped Aemon in the face with the other.

"_He..._" Tormund pointed at Jon. "... defended the Wall for years. _He_ stood up for my people. _He_ paid with his life for saving the Freefolk and _he_ ended your mother's empire of ash. _He_ is our King of the Free Folk!"

_King of the Free Folk._ Jon had never heard such a title for himself before. He stood up once again. Tormund handed him Longclaw, which Jon then sheathed. The girl, Visenya tried shoving Tormund away from her brother, after which Tormund grabbed Visenya and pushed her away, followed by growling from Jon's side.

That was when he saw Ghost, growling at Tormund. The direwolf was on her side. Tormund released Jon's daughter.

"Tell my why I shouldn't let Drogon burn the both of you." Dany's words sounded poisonous.

"Because you have lost control over him, and that is why you came here, is it not?"

Everybody looked to the east, from where the voice came. Four people, all wearing hooded cloaks, were approaching them. Despite their faces being hidden, however, Jon immediately figured out who they were, all but one. The shortest of the party, who was holding a walking cane and had a dog at his side, was unknown to Jon.

"You do not truly want him dead, for he is the father of your children. The same goes for you two, you would not execute your own father, would you, cousins?" He took off his hood, revealing short black hair and the same icy blue eyes Jon had seen in the White Walkers. He noticed that Dany and Tormund looked at him the same way, all of them veterans of the Great War.

"My name is Beric Baratheon. It is my royal uncle that has brought you here." The emotionless voice was reminiscent of that of Bran. "He is already planning the destruction of House Targaryen, and only together can we stop him."


	9. Regicide

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The party prepares to leave for the Lands of Always Winter. The Small Council receives a gift.

Most of Castle Black had been damaged during the battle that had taken place there. Luckily, however, the kitchen and dining hall had both remained unscathed. After the young Baratheon heir had finished explaining their plans (as well as having convinced them of the looming threat in the north), the group had dispersed, gathering at the tables in enclaves. On Jon's opposite end of the main table, Davos, Tormund, Arya and Gendry were speaking, while Dany and the twins had moved to another. Meanwhile, Jon was sitting alone at his original seat, observing the people in the room. Although the general mood was tense, the twins seemed to be bonding with their cousin, mainly over their shared wolf dreams. They're wargs, like me. Like Bran. Jon knew that Ghost had some wolf pups, perhaps those were the dire wolves they were warging?

After a while, Davos had walked over to Jon, taking a seat at his side.

"You have to talk to them, Jon." Davos silently said. "Regardless of what happened, it would be obvious to anybody that you aren't happy. Be it the work of some deity or not, you've been given a second, no, third chance at life. When this business up north is dealt with, granted we survive, I want you to take Daenerys and your children, find a peaceful place and live out your lives in harmony. Despite all she has done, I know - and you know - that she has a good heart. I haven't spoken with your twins, but from what I can tell, they seem like proper good people as well. All I'm asking is that you try to be happy for once. Your struggle was to ensure that there was a future for mankind. Do not let your sacrifices be in vain, Jon. Make something out of the future you fought so hard for. I'm sure she still loves you, but neither she or the children trust you. So regain their trust. You know what it's like to grow up with only one parent in your life, and nothing will make you happier than seeing your children live good lives. I know, better than most, of the emotional impact that comes from one's children."

Jon looked up at the Onion Knight. _Unlikely that they would accept me, old friend_. Instead, however, he nodded and rose from his seat, walking over to Dany. She looked him in the eyes in a way that made it seem like she was worried that he would stab her again.

"Dany, I... I'm sorry for what I did and I regret it every day. I'll never hurt you again."

Dany started to smile, which quickly turned into a frown as she looked down to the ground. Jon tried to comfort her, but as he went to embrace her, an angry look from his daughter caused him to hesitate.

"Mother used to tell us that you were an honorable man. A hero, a paragon of justice. Me and Aemon always wanted to meet you, to know the father our mother spoke so highly of. Instead, she revealed that you killed her, and us with it. Although you did not know of us, it doesn't excuse what you did to our mother. You betrayed your oath. If you hadn't done what you did, you could have helped raise us, as a father should. You could have been the king you were born to be. But instead you chose... this place."

"I thought I was doing the right thing, and realized it was wrong. It was a bad decision, but it was a bad situation. Every day since that, I thought what I could have done differently, how I could have prevented everything. So many mistakes happened. In the end, I only saw two solutions. Both of which were bad." He felt something touch his hand, and noticed Dany looking in his eyes, her hand on top of his, her eyes teary, but Jon could see the compassion and affection in them. Visenya, however, looked even angrier.

"Maybe you are mad after all, mother. You saved all these miserable people, and you were rewarded with betrayal. How can you want to fight for the safety of your murderers?"

"It is not for them, it is for me. For redemption. Burning innocent people, even after having helped save them from an eternity of undeath, was wrong. I want to prove to myself that I am not an evil person, despite all I did. If you do not want to help, then so be it, but I will do this. As I said: not for the Starks, the Hand or any other person, but for myself. Neither is your father evil. I, too, have contemplated those days, and I see that we both were used. At the time, I felt that the massacre in King's Landing was justified, and Jon thought that stabbing me was justified as well. We were both wrong, but my heart will always belong to him."

Jon smiled and discreetly kissed Dany's hand, whispering "I am yours as well, I promise."

Jon looked at his son Aemon, who he noticed had a sword in his scabbard.

"Are you good at wielding that?"

Aemon shrugged. "I suppose sometimes. Whenever my loved ones are threatened." He was glaring at his father.

Jon nodded. "I could always help you improve. We're leaving at dawn, and the Lands of Always Winter are never safe."

====================================================================================

The emissary from the Stepstones was escorted by Ser Podrick into the Small Council room. With the rugged clothes, including a worn-out tabard with the Blackfyre crest. In his left hand, Podrick held a crooked blade, likely taken from the pirate, while he held some sort of cloth sack in his right hand. The foreigner stood with his arms crossed, and Tyrion decided that he should be the first to speak. After all, the king was even more absent than usual: having been spending most of his time warging something, with Tyrion having been making most of the decisions.

"What message does Salladhor Saan want to deliver?"

The emissary scoffed. "King Salladhor Saan send me for message." His accent was strange and his knowledge of he common language was rather poor. "He have gift for you. In sack." Tyrion nodded toward Podrick, who proceeded to turn the sack upside down, as two heads fell out of it onto the table. At the sight, Samwell Tarly flinched while Bronn raised his eyebrow. Tyrion was astonished as to how these men were able to be overpowered by mere pirates.

"Who are they?" The master of coin asked, but Tyrion already knew of the men. One of the heads belonged to a Ghiscari advisor in Meereen, whose name had been long forgotten by Tyrion. The other head he did remember, though. It was the head of none other than the king of Meereen himself, Daario Naharis.

"Glorious King Salladhor Saan sail to Meereen and raid pyramid. Take treasury, slay king and enjoy his concubines. You pay tribute to Salladhor Saan, or same fate happen to you."

Tyrion's blood boiled, and he signaled for the Kingsguard to grab the emissary. How is this possible? He's saying that they managed to get a raiding party into the pyramid of Meereen, and somehow slay the king? He never liked the former sellsword, but these pirates had murdered a sovereign king in his palace and now threatened to do the same to them. Showing weakness to a pirate only serves to encourage their attack. Those people were raiders, not soldiers. Since they were dumb enough to reveal their possible plans, they would never be able to defeat the navy stationed in Dragonstone, as they would face a superior tactician.

"You will have nothing from us. If you weren't an emissary, we would have executed you on the spot for piracy. Tell your 'king' that we ignore his threats. Regicide is a serious crime. Trust me, I've known a number of kingslayers and queenslayers, none of their lives ending well. I would say that your liege awaits a similar fate." He looked at Podrick. "Take him away."


	10. The Border

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Takes place weeks before chapter 9

Daario Naharis, king of Meereen and regent lord of Dragon's Bay, had woken up to screams and someone pounding on his door. 

"My king, the Stepstones have attacked us!"

As he exited his chambers, he looked over his city, reddened with fire. The sight of the harbour revealed to him the pirate ships that had anchored. There were no signs of his own ships. _Must've been sunk._ He proceeded to the throne room, where the royal guards were standing.

"_Our defences have fallen! They've broken into the pyramid!_ The soldiers were gathering in a wedge formation in front of the throne as the raiders just finished ascending the stairs. One by one, the guards fell and Daario decided to face death like a man. Walking down the throne's stairs, he grabbed a throwing knife. Seeing his last guard die, the king was now standing alone in front of an increasing number of assailants.

The first attacker hadn't even reached the first step up to the throne before Daario, after a momentary state off pure focusing, threw the throwing knife, with it hitting the man's throat. The next attacker charged at Daario, but the king dodged the attack and slashed him across the back with one of his daggers. Daario then took the crooked blade from the dying pirate and had time to parry the next strike from the next assailant.

Then he felt a sharp pain in his side. Then another, and two more. Before he had time to think, he was on his knees, watching as the tall pirate in front of him raised his halberd. Daario looked the man in his eyes as the halberd's blade was approaching his throat.

He was only able to feel the initial scraping of the blade on his throat before he felt himself flying, separated from his body, upwards out of the window and toward what looked like to be northwest. Travelling unbelievably fast, he passed some mountains, a swamp, a snowy landscape, a huge wall and finally a tower in the snow.

In the next moment, all pain was gone, and Daario was lying down on a stone floor different from the marble floor of Meereen's throne room. Opening his eyes, he discovered he was in a sunlit hall surrounded by seven seats. It was not located within the snowy landscape he had seen before, this place looked more like a ruinous castle within a forest.

"Another worthy soul has arrived!."

The voice came from the large man occupying the middle seat. His statement was followed by acknowledging echoes from the other large people on the other seats. "A worthy soul!"

"What afterlife awaits this mighty champion?" The man in the middle said once more. He was wearing a robe and had a long grey beard.

There was a silence in the room for a few moments. At the far left seat, there was a man wearing a leather jerkin with a hammer at his feet. To his right was what resembled a younger woman, wearing a pink dress. The next one was a middle-aged woman who wore a regal dress and was heavy with child. In the middle seat sat the man with the beard. To his right was a heavily armored man with an scar across his eye. He had pale hair and wore metallic red armor with shoulders that were modelled after dragon heads. In his scabbard was a greatsword with a dragon's head for a pummel. After him was an elderly woman wearing a hood, there was a lantern on her throne's armrest. At the far right was what looked like a corpse. He wore a hood and had no flesh in his upper face.

"This man, although not having worshipped my virtues, has lived according to them." The one speaking was the armored man. "I say he will join his fellow fighters in the Nightlands. A warm welcome will await him in Seasky Halls!"

"Yes", the young woman said, rather annoyed. "Take him. His lust knows no bounds, having kept several concubines during his rule in Meereen."

"Very well. To the Nightlands he shall go!" the old bearded man bellowed.

_These people are deciding the rest of my existence. I could enjoy luxuries beyond my imagination... or I could spend my time with warriors in the Seasky Halls..._

"D-do I have a say in the matter? What other options exist?" Daario was nervous but decided to speak up anyway.

The dead one laughed. "A man is a skilled killer, one who could be of use in the Abyss. If a man wishes the possibility for an eternity of endless suffering, he shall have it."

"We cannot risk it." the elderly woman almost whispered. "The Abyss is under _his_ control, Stranger."

The armored one spoke again. "Crone speaks wisely. But we must honor the pact of old. He must make the choice."

Just then, a hole appeared in the floor as part of it split apart, revealing an opening to unfathomable darkness. _There is no way I'll go there. I'll choose the other one._

Daario turned around to face the doorway behind him that he had not seen being opened. At the doorway was a large man, although not as large as the people sitting on the thrones, wearing a helmet with antlers and wielding a warhammer, seemingly waiting for Daario.

"It seems the choice has been made. Welcome to the Seasky Halls, Daario Naharis!" he laughed.

The doorway in the floor started closing, as Daario was going to his new home. However, a rustling sound made him turn around again. Dark smoke had enveloped the doorway in the floor, keeping it open. Daario ran to the other doorway, but felt something latch onto his ankle, and he soon felt his body hit the floor. He was being dragged down.

"_He_ has sent the Goat to claim this soul!" the bearded man said worriedly. Daario tried looking behind himself to see what was dragging him down the hole, but all he could see was a dark tendril around his ankle. In vain, he tried grabbing onto the ledge before he was completely on the other side of the hole, but the grip around his leg got stronger and he soon had to let go.

The hall he had been in was now only a diminishing round source of light in his view, as Daario was being dragged farther down while darkness gathered around him.


	11. The Night King

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon, Dany, Aemon, Visenya, Beric, Arya, Gendry and Davos reach the throne of Benjen Stark.

"This is it. This is where his voice led me."

The way to the old tower was more difficult this time, as Jon had no voice to guide him - only Beric's suggestions were able to help them find the tower this time. What Jon hadn't noticed the last time he was here, however, was the ice lake that was just behind the tower. It reminded him of the grim battle where Dany had saved them and where Thoros of Myr had died.

"Yes." Beric said, emotionless. "He is waiting for us. At the top."

Inside, the seemingly petrified men were still in the kneeling position in front of the coffin. Both Davos and Gendry looked afraid, but the twins seemed... familiar with the place? As they approached the staircase, a cold breeze swept through Jon, as if something magical had created it. Jon and Beric walked in the front, with the twins just behind them with Dany, Arya behind her and Gendry and Davos at the back.

===============================

Visenya immediately recognized the man sitting on the throne at the top of the tower. _I have seen him before, in my dreams._ He wore a black coat, similar to that of his father, but this one was tattered and seemingly damaged by burns. 

"I knew you would come back, Targaryen." His voice echoed in Visenya's head. "_He_ has led you here. The Three-Eyed Raven wants me gone from this world, and he has delivered his chosen successor here himself."

He rose from his seat. "The Night King was charged with guarding the realm of the dead by the Children of the Forest, but unbeknownst to them, malevolent old gods dwelled deep beneath this citadel. They were servants of the Great Other, Lord of the Abyss, who corrupted him, after which the Night King brought souls from the beyond to forever serve him. Beric Baratheon was conceived the night before the Battle of Winterfell, allowing what remained of the Night King to enter Arya Stark's womb and take hold of the growing child. The first Night King wants his throne back and the Three-Eyed Raven is aiding him."

Arya Stark stepped in front of Visenya's father and Beric. "You truly believe my son is possessed by that monstrosity? Why should we believe anything you say? Who even _are_ you?"

He chuckled. "I was once Benjen Stark, but he died beyond the Wall. Due to me being stabbed with a dragonglass dagger, I was freed from the grasp of the Night King. I am the last survivor of the Army of the Dead, and so, I have succeeded the Night King, to forever guard the realm of the dead." His gaze turned toward Beric. "Is your will truly your own, stag? Or is your being a mere vessel for a greater power?" The man formerly named Benjen Stark grabbed a scabbard leaning toward his throne, and drew an ice-coated sword. "In time, his corruption will only grow stronger until it takes complete control of you. I regret what I must do."

"_Wait!_" It was her brother's voice. "I beg of you. Please, there must be a way to free him!"

_Has Aemon lost his mind?_ The twins might both have the blood of the wolf, but it was the Starks that had contributed to ending her mother's reign. Visenya had no love for any Stark, even for her own father. Yet, Aemon had always been too caring. Too Naive. Short-sighted. But it was still one reason of why she truly loved her brother, as he had always stood up for her.

"It would be foolish to let him live with the Night King's mark on him, but there is a way to relieve young Beric of his corruption. However, it will require the utmost virtue from all of you. It is immensely dangerous, especially for two broken dragons."

"Let me try, at least." It was mother speaking, with her voice cracked with what sounded like sorrow. "I have destroyed so much. Please, allow me a chance to redeem myself."

"You would risk your life for the grandchild of the Usurper?" Benjen nodded, sheathing his sword. "Very well. You will have to face your inner horrors. Your deepest fears, regrets and sorrows. If you succeed in your task, Beric will live. If not, you all will end up in the Abyss."


	12. Horrific Visions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> To vanquish what remains of the Night King without killing Beric Baratheon, the group have to face their inner demons.

Jon found himself in the burnt-down King's Landing again. He saw himself kissing Dany, as he pulled out the dagger. Instead of plunging it into her heart, however, he threw it on the ground beside him.

What followed were what looked like snippets of what happened later, if also Jon had chosen to embrace the dragon.

Tyrion was put to the sword. Davos tried to stage a coup, but ultimately he too was executed. Gendry was killed by Jon as the former challenged the latter to single combat. The remaining lords and ladies of the kingdom were invited to King's Landing, after which they were all poisoned with the exception of Sansa and Arya. Sansa was burned alive while Arya had a noose around her neck, strangling herself as she tried to save her sister. Bran went into hiding along with Samwell Tarly. Queen Daenerys' food was poisoned which resulted in her pregnancy ending in the twins being dead upon birth. In a moment of clarity, drowning in sorrow and guilt, Dany was seen jumping from a tower of King's Landing. Jon was left as king, with the warmongering Grey Worm and Yara Greyjoy being the only advisors he trusted.

He saw himself constructing a large cuboid-shaped citadel being built at the spot where Dany died, with a nest for Drogon at the very top. Drogon's numerous eggs were placed in a grand rookery within the citadel. Next, he saw Bran, Samwell and even Tormund assemble a mighty host to break into Jon's citadel. There, his advisors and dragons were killed, one by one, until only Jon remained. Overwhelmed, he was cut down by Bran's forces. In his last breath, he thanked his brother for freeing him from his burdens. The last thing he saw in the vision was the crowning of Bran, proving that despite what went differently, Bran still became king.

=============

Dany saw an echo of herself, on top of Drogon, hearing the bells ring. She braced for the moment where she flew up to burn the people of King's Landing.

However, she did not. Instead, Drogon took off and flew back to the Targaryen camp. The vision faded, replaced by a vision of Jaime Lannister and his sister Cersei in Volantis, with Cersei holding her newborn child. Afterwards, Dany saw herself letting Cersei's Hand, Qyburn, along with Euron Greyjoy be hanged. Then, chaos returned. Sansa Stark staged a rebellion, joined by houses Tully, Tarly and Hightower. Amidst this chaos, Cersei returned with the Golden Company. Tyrion was then convinced by Samwell Tarly to open the gates of King's Landing, after which it was sacked. Dany saw Drogon, with her atop him, being shot down by Cersei's forces. Jon Snow was overwhelmed and killed, as Cersei reclaimed the throne. Years later, after realizing his mistake, Tyrion conspired with Bran Stark to overthrow Cersei, and Bran ended up as king after all.

=============

Jon found himself facing a man with withered skin, wearing strange armor and a dilapitated crown. In his hand was a sword coated in ice and his eyes were bright blue. Behind him was a doorway sealed with ice and had a silhouette beyond it. Jon pulled Longclaw out of its scabbard, and found that it was emanating light and heat.

The swords clashed, and the man's sword was shattered, leaving Jon an opportunity to impale him with Longclaw. As he fell, the ice behind the doorway shattered, revealing an old man in a Night's Watch cloak, his back turned toward Jon. He could have been mistaken for Maester Aemon at first, but as soon as he turned around, Jon saw that one eye was missing.

"Impressive, kinsman." His voice reminded Jon of Bran, no emotion in speech. The environment around them faded, and suddenly they were standing in the middle of a battlefield. On one side were Westerosi, on the other were wights and White Walkers. 

"The Night King is vanquished. After thousands of years, his final refuge was broken. The boy will die, and the man will be born, just as what has been so many times before. I thought Bran Stark would break the cycle of the Three-Eyed Raven, that there would be no need of an force to oppose the Night King. I was wrong. Instead, the Three-Eyed Raven chose to return the Night King to the hands of the Great Other. A grim fate, one that would make all of your efforts in vain. But it was averted by you."

Jon sighed. "Is it over, then? Is my family safe?"

"The Red Wolf and her sons sit at the table of the Three-Eyed Raven, whose feast feeds not their hunger, but that of the Lord of the Abyss. See your family to safety, Aegon Targaryen. The Jailer of the Dead will provide you with what you need. I wish I could do more for you, but my restrictions have barred me from aiding you."

=============

Just then, Aemon woke up. He had witnessed his father fight some decrepit king in a dream, after which an old man had spoken to him in a cryptic manner.

His gaze went to his sister. Visenya was waking up as well, having a short, dark blade in front of her.

That was when he noticed the bastard sword in front of himself: the dark blade and hilt with the dragon's head for a pommel.


	13. Rise of Tyranny

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After his plans failed, Bran is rendered unconscious, making the Small Council desperate.

"We still have received no word from Davos Seaworth since he disappeared from Dragonstone." Tyrion pointed to the empty seat in the council chamber. 

"The Baratheons have left Storm's End as well, according to my spies" Arianne Martell said. "Lord Gendry and his son were seen sailing north on a ship adorned with a wolf's head."

Tyrion nodded. Of course, Arya Stark would be the only one that could persuade Lord Gendry to leave his precious forge. He was initially chocked to learn that the two had feelings for each other, let alone that they had had a child. After she left Westeros, shortly after the coronation of Bran Stark, Gendry had fallen into a bad mood for a while. Not even his son could cheer him up enough to leave Storm's End. From what Tyrion had heard, however, he was a capable lord, ruling over the Stormlands with skill despite his personal longing for Arya.

The last few weeks had not been easy. The King had not returned from his mind-journeys, resulting in chaos within the Small Council. Bronn and Princess Martell had acted quickly and had sent their armies into the capital. _Were I a devout man, I'd pray for the King's return._ It was only a matter of time before Arianne or Bronn staged a coup and took power for themselves in King's Landing. The two had never really trusted the King's power, and seemed not to like him. As for the king, Tyrion had thought that he would starve while he was unconscious, but maester Sam claimed that something was keeping the King alive.

Tyrion continued. "Due to the King's abscence, it falls to the Hand of the King to rule over the realm. Therefore, I shall take up the duties of Bran Stark. Within two days, I want the Blackwater-Martell forces out of the city. Otherwise... well, their leaders will be branded as traitors and have their lands taken from them."

Arianne hit her fist on the table. "Declare me a traitor and King's Landing will burn again. My army will not leave the city as long as a Lannister wields the power of a King." She rose from her chair and exited the chamber.

==========

Aemon adjusted the deer on his horse to keep it in place. He had some experience with hunting in Essos growing up, where he had learned to track and shoot animals, but he never mastered it. He had been forced to stab the poor beast in the heart with Blackfyre to stop its suffering after Aemon had shot it. The others had set up camp at about an hour's ride away and had sent Aemon out to hunt for food three hours ago. It had taken a lot of time and effort, but Aemon finally managed to kill something to bring back.

It had been a fortnight since they left the Night King's castle. Ever since, they had been travelling south toward the Wall. _If only Drogon were here, he'd bring us home._ Yet, somehow, Aemon felt that the dragon wouldn't help them now. They would be stuck in Westeros for some time. He was sure of it.

Suddenly, Aemon felt snow coming down on his face. Then came more snow. Finally, Aemon realized that this was the beginning of a blizzard, and he decided that he would find some shelter. He dismounted his horse and started walking, leading it.

That was when the howling began.

Scared, the horse took off with the deer on its back. The howls came closer, and not much later Aemon could see what looked like four large grey wolves, perhaps even direwolves, approaching him. A fifth wolf made itself visible afterward, but this one was auburn-colored. The blizzard made it difficult to see, but Aemon could hear at least one wolf coming closer, so he unsheathed Blackfyre. Then he struck.

The wolf laid dead at his feet, yet he could not spare a moment to let his guard down. He spotted the next wolf attacking him, and proceeded to cut it down as well. As it fell, Aemon felt a sharp pain in his leg, as if teeth had sunk into it. His grip on Blackfyre was lost as he felt himself hit the ground, and saw the wolf that bit him appear along with the red one. Reaching for Blackfyre, Aemon saw the red wolf bracing itself to attack him. As his hand wrapped around Blackfyre, he immediately sweeped it against the wolf, after which it recoiled in pain. Just afterward, the red wolf pounced at him, and Aemon closed his eyes in preparation for death.

However, the wolf never reached him. Aemon opened his eyes and saw the red wolf fighting with another larger direwolf. After a while, both the red wolf and the remaining grey one let out whimpers, running away from the fight. The larger direwolf stared at Aemon for a few seconds, then ran off, disappearing in the blizzard.

With a few painful steps, Aemon tried walking again. _Now where is that damned horse?_ He tried finding his mount amidst the blizzard. He could make out a silhouette in the snow and approached it. The silhouette became clearer and he could eventually make out a red mask on a strange figure, not at all dressed for the cold.

"Well fought, Targaryen." the female voice belonging to the figure spoke to him. 

Aemon had no idea of what was going on. "Who are you?"

"I am Quaithe, a humble servant of Him Who Dwells in the Other's Lands. For those uninitiated, I would be a shadowbinder. But who I am does not matter. What matters is what I have to tell you."

Aemon was confused. "And what would that be?"

"Light is dying. You and your... sister will bring it back. Westeros is consumed by the unfathomable darkness that the Three-Eyed Raven maintains. End his reign, Targaryen. Dismantle the Three-Eyed Raven forever and bring back the Light."

"But... why should I do any of that? And why do you care? You're a shadowbinder!"

"The next world is being conquered by the Other. Thus, you and your family are in grave peril. Do not repeat the mistakes of those who came before you. The mistakes of ice and fire. As for me... well, without light, no shadows can exist. It is in my master's interests that light does not die. A former chosen failed her task, be it through ability or will, it matters not. As a consequence of her failure, she lost everything she had, but gained what she did not have. Her house was granted a second chance at life. There will not be a third." Quaithe started walking away into the blizzard.

"Wait!" Aemon cried out, but Quaithe did not react. In the end, all he saw was a silhouette disappearing into the blizzard.

Moments later, the blizzard cleared and Aemon could once again see his horse. Thankfully, it had been unharmed by the wolves and approached Aemon. As he mounted the horse, he felt a sharp pain in his bitten leg.

"Come on, let's go back to camp."

==========

"Will they find out?"

Samwell had seemed very worried about sending the message. Tyrion tried to convince him that it was necessary if they were to survive. After all, neither Arianne Martell or Bronn of the Blackwater were fond of any of the other council members. Tyrion even suspected they were plotting against each other, something that could only end in total disaster for Bronn. 

Tyrion had asked Sam to meet him in the rookery, where he would give Sam the letter he had written. He could not risk revealing the contents of the letter to any other courtier in fear of how Arianne or Bron would react. 

"Eventually. Hopefully not until our savior has arrived."

Sam shifted uncomfortably. "And do you expect her to come to our aid? It could be seen as a declaration of war."

Tyrion sealed the letter and handed it to Sam. "It has to. It's our only hope to regain control of the realm."

Sam attached the letter to one of the ravens, opened the window shutters and let it fly away.

Sam shrugged and left the rookery. Tyrion would stay for quite some time afterward, not to arouse suspicion.

During the hours that followed, Tyrion would ponder about consequences of his plan that he hadn't though about before. Lord Arryn and Lord Tully would both obviously be on the side of their kin, but the ironborn had no love for Tyrion's benefactor. In the meantime, Tyrion would do his best not to arouse suspicion. Weeks, maybe even months of efforts awaited him. He would almost rather not find out what would become of him.


	14. Heir to the North

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The northmen arrive to King's Landing.

Prince Eddard grabbed his scabbard with Widow's Wail in it and strapped it onto his belt. As part of the repayments for Queen Cersei's betrayal against Daenerys Targaryen, Lord Tyrion Lannister, once he had become Hand, had recovered Jaime Lannister's sword and had it sent to Queen Sansa Stark of the North. She, in turn, had given it to her eldest son: Eddard. Not only did the fourteen-year-old prince possess a sword made of Valyrian steel; he also was trained by one of the greatest swordsmen in Westeros. His uncle Jon Snow would occasionally be invited to Winterfell, where he would teach his two oldest nephews, Eddard and Robb, in swordfighting.

When his mother had barged into his room a few weeks ago, she had told Eddard that he had to get ready to travel immediately. At first, Eddard thought they would be going to White Harbor or Barrowton, which they usually would, but when the young prince saw the soldiers gathered outside the castle walls, Eddard realized that this time would be different. While travelling, the queen had told her sons about what they were about to do. Uncle Bran and Tyrion Lannister were in peril, and the northmen would have to come to King's Landing to save them. Ordinarily, northmen going south of Moat Cailin would be considered a declaration of war, but the Hand's missive assured that he had permitted Sansa Stark to enter the lands of the Six Kingdoms.

As he exited the royal wagon, Eddard found himself standing in front of the northwestern gate off King's Landing. One of the northmen blew a horn, after which the gates opened, revealing a line of goldcloaks with a member of the Kingsguard in the middle. Judging by his stature, Eddard concluded that the man was none other than Ser Podrick Payne, who commanded the goldcloaks since the controversial demise of the last commander. Eddard had read reports that a minor noble, once in the service of Lord Hightower (who at the time was actually the most powerful lord in the Reach), had been executed at the orders of the King, a decision that seemingly did not have any explanation. As far as anyone knew, the man was loyal.

The queen donned her crown and stepped toward the castle gates. Ser Podrick walked a few steps forward and nodded toward Eddard's mother.

"Our scouts reported that a northern host was approaching the capital." he started. "I didn't fully believe it until I saw it. It's a wonder no hostilities were reported along the way."

Queen Sansa frowned. "I received disturbing news from here. I demand to see my brother immediately."

"The King isn't in a position to grant you your wish. The Small Council has agreed that no military is allowed into the city."

"Let them enter. I invited them." The voice came from behind Ser Podrick. 

The Hand of the King was casually strolling toward the gates from the city. He had no bodyguards and wore discreet clothing, although his short stature would instantly reveal his identity.

Podrick's eyes widened. "Lord Hand! But Lady Arianne-"

"Arianne Martell does not represent the king, Podrick. I do." Tyrion Lannister shrugged and shook hands with the Queen in the North. "A pleasure to meet you again, my former wife." He looked over at Eddard and then at Robb. "You two have grown since I last saw you."

Sansa Stark gave Tyrion a judgemental look, after which she turned her gaze toward the Red Keep. She started walking toward it, followed by her soldiers. Eddard and Robb were left behind, along with Tyrion, Podrick and the goldcloaks.

Ser Podrick's eyes were still wide as the last soldiers passed them. He then looked at Tyrion, shocked.

"What did you _do?_"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay and short chapter, the rest of what was planned for this chapter will come out shortly.


End file.
